


Overwatch Drabble Collection, or, "Wow it sure is gay in here"

by abkvs (orphan_account)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Pre-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 02:13:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7462710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/abkvs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>lil drablets from my tumblr! I very much enjoy prompts & reading headcanons so feel free to drop em in my tumblr askbox @ http://abakkus.tumblr.com/ask !! I can't promise I'll write things for everyone, but if it strikes me, then maybe! :D</p><p>Ratings & pairings for each piece are in brackets in the chapter title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reaper/Solider 76 -- Old Men & Older Cameras [G]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> What if Jack had a Polaroid camera and only took photos of Gabe trying to be grumpy (because he can't help but smile when he sees the camera. Stop, Jack, he's trying to brood)?

_Click!_

“What are you doing?”

“Remembering.”

“And you call _me_ dramatic? Put that stupid thing down.” Gabriel reaches to grab the old relic of a camera out of Jack’s hands, but Jack bounds back just out of reach. Gabriel doesn’t feel like getting out of his chair, so he just glares.

Jack raises the lens again and instantly Gabriel’s brows raise and his lips quirk into a small, affectionate smile. It’s a reflex; he can’t help it. _Always smile for the camera, Gabriel,_ his Abuela used to say. _Always remember the good times._

_Click!_

Sigh.

“Jack, come on.” _  
_

Jack just grins as he shakes out the Polaroids and pins them to the fridge. “If you take it down, I’ll just take more,” he says. Jack leans down over Gabriel’s shoulder and kisses his scarred cheek. “Just let me have this. I lost all the old ones in the fire.” He places the camera on the kitchen table.

Gabriel grins and shakes his head and rolls his eyes, just a little bit. “Stupid sentimental farm boy,” he says, pushing his hand back into Jack’s white hair. He pulls him down further into an awkward not-quite-headlock. “I’m right here, you can look at me any time.”

Jack doesn’t say anything, so Gabriel fills the silence. “I’m not going anywhere this time.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

Gabriel snatches the camera and turns the lens on both of them. The photo comes out tilted and out of focus, but he pins it to the fridge anyways. If he squints and the lighting is right, he can make out Jack’s obnoxiously perfect white smile. Maybe, just maybe, Gabriel thinks, he might get a camera too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted here: http://abakkus.tumblr.com/post/147258984336


	2. Hanzo Shimada/Jesse McCree -- No Sleep for the Weary [T]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Hanzo likes to sleep on McCree. Leaning on him, head in his lap, curled against him. He's like a cat because he does this right when McCree is about to do something. He never does the thing. Everyone thinks he's lazy, but he just can't wake the bf

It was long past midnight, the base abandoned and everyone… well, everyone _else_ , asleep in their bunks. Everyone but Jesse McCree, who is, for once, getting paperwork done. He’d gotten chewed out by his commander that afternoon for being lax about it again, and he wasn’t going to deal with that a second time. He’s making shockingly good headway, too, now that there’s no one to flirt with or to make puns at.

Or, well… he was. Then, the sound of metal on wood made his head snap up and a sigh deflated him moments later.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Hanzo. He loves him. It’s kind-of a secret, so he thinks. Jesse thinks he’s pretty good at keeping secrets, but he flirts with Hanzo the most. Everyone knows; Jesse’s just slow on the uptake.

The archer sits without a word on the couch beside Jesse, and moments later he’s nuzzling up under his arm, pressing his head on his chest. “Come to bed,” he says, his voice somehow still commanding even though it’s clearly muffled by sleepiness.

“Darlin’, I can’t,” Jesse insists weakly. “Reyes is gonna have my ass if I don’t have this done by mornin’.” His arm falls on Hanzo’s back. It’s his dominant arm too, damnit. Even half asleep, Hanzo is as conniving as ever. How does he make plans without coffee in his veins?

Hanzo slips down lower, and for a moment Jesse is worried he’s about to make a move. If Hanzo starts touching him, they’ll never sleep, and he’ll probably owe someone a lot of money to reupholster the couch. Blessedly, the only thing Hanzo does is lay his head on Jesse’s thigh. Jesse never thought he’d heave an _Oh-thank-God_ sigh at the prospect of _not_ having sex. 

He pets Hanzo’s hair and Hanzo lets his perfect, full lashes flutter closed. Jesse smiles adoringly down at him. “Yer an ass,” he says quietly. “Love ya’, though.” Hanzo just scoffs.

When morning comes, Jesse is snoring with his head tipped back, still sitting upright and still fully dressed. Hanzo is somehow immune to the snorting-hog-like noise that stumbles out of Jesse’s slack lips; he sleeps quite peacefully there on the couch, curled up on a single cushion with his lover for a pillow.

On the plus side, Jesse got his paperwork done. Too bad he’s going to get a lecture anyways, this time for waking the whole base with his obnoxious snore. There’s a reason his room is soundproofed.

Well, with Hanzo around, now there’s two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted here: http://abakkus.tumblr.com/post/147262635966


	3. Reaper/Soldier 76 -- Surprise? [G]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> How about this: Jack got the ring a few months back now and has been planning the whole thing but just can't get himself to do it, he's just too shy about it. And this one time he takes it out to check on it for the millionth time that free day, he puts it down on the desk and leans close to it rehearsing the whole thing in his head when smokey Gabe appears behind him. "Morrison There's something I need to... What's that?"

Jack freezes, covers it, draws it closer to his body. He insists it’s nothing, absolutely nothing, _what do you NEED Gabriel stop LOOKING AT ME THAT WAY._

Gabe is just fucking grinning at him. He’s not stupid. He’s been hearing Jack mumbling his speech practice for weeks anyways. He doesn’t even really _need_ anything, he just happened to be free when he heard Jack going through his routine and thought, well, time to ruin his plans. Because Gabe is a Nice and Good boyfriend.

Gabe’s smoky hand drifts through Jack’s torso (Why do you do that Gabriel it feels _WEIRD_. STOP.) and pulls the ring out of hiding. He slides it on his finger, admires it for a moment, and then says “Yes, I do,” before dragging Jack’s blushing frustrated ass to his feet and kissing him right into the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted here: http://abakkus.tumblr.com/post/146474510066


	4. Reaper/Soldier 76/Jesse McCree -- Reunion [M]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Honestly, McCree spying on a certain couple of vampires like oh no this is hot I have conflicting feelings.

Jesse McCree was no stranger to weird things. He'd seen a girl jump back through time, a gorilla lead a special forces squad, and a woman use light to craft a teleporter from a mechanical arm. He'd conversed with robots (which, he gathered from old movies, used to be a very strange and fantastic concept) and watched a Russian powerlifter manipulate gravity. Jesse's pride laid in his nerves; nothing phased him, nothing stole his attention away from his mission, nothing could unsteady his dead-on aim. That's what he thought, anyhow.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised when his stakeout produced results on the third day, when the two vigilantes he'd been tasked with spying on down in Dorado finally showed up. That was the whole point of a stakeout. Just... Well, he hadn't expected to see the faces of two people he had mourned emerge from behind the pair of scarred masks. 

He _definitely_ hadn't expected to accidentally become a voyeur, watching the pair kiss and grope in supposed seclusion, under the moonlight. (He'd had his suspicions, back in the day; Jesse was going to be collecting on some very old bets when he got back to base.) More than that, though, he hadn't expected to watch his two supposedly-dead friends start biting each other as claws tore through fabric. 

Jesse had had his fair share of bite marks in the bedroom, but this wasn't blunt nibbles. This was _biting_. They were drawing blood in a very serious way, enough that he could see red through his binoculars. 

Jesse squinted. Surely he was just seeing things; he was running on four hours of sleep and enough coffee to wake the dead, after all. But no, that was definitely blood—blood, puffs of breath in the cool night air, weird too-sharp teeth and... Oh. _  
_

_Fuck._

Glowing red eyes, looking right at him.

In one instant he gasped and blinked and they were gone, leaving the cowboy to sit and puzzle and briefly wonder how he was going to explain this particular hallucination to Angela at his next check-up. Maybe he would have come up with a good story, had he not been swallowed by thick black smoke a second later. 

He was a brick and the smoke was water, and when he hit the bottom, Jesse wanted to throw up. He cupped a hand over his mouth as moonlight poured over him once more. 

He wasn't sure where he was, only that it was small and cramped and smelled distantly of mildew, and that he definitely wasn't alone. Two thick shadows blocked light in front of his vision, and when he looked up, he saw them: Commander Morrison and Commander Reyes; Soldier 76 and Reaper; Jack and Gabe; Winston's number one pain in the ass targets; his old crushes. It chilled him to his core, the way they looked at him. He felt like he was a product being appraised, like he was a buffet table and they were starving. 

His eyes darted from one man to the other. Gabriel Reyes, with his dark eyes, imposing smile, and powerful, crossed-arm stance. Jack Morrison, with his angelic face and commanding jaw. Both of them, once dead and buried, now standing before him and within arm’s reach for the first time in at least half a decade, if not more. Both of them, with their fanged smiles and red eyes that glowed dimly in the night.

Years ago he had feared and respected these men; now, Jesse was just plain terrified. His mind flashed back to his post-Deadlock days, when he'd been painfully initiated into Blackwatch, when Commander Reyes showed him the ropes the hard way. He thought he had been afraid back then, but those days had nothing on this exact moment. Back then, he knew it was for his own good, that things would get better once he acclimated and proved himself. Right now, Jesse wasn't sure how much time he had left to live.

Jesse breathed in and reached for his pistol on pure instinct, but it was gone. No, not gone— _stolen_. Stolen and currently being twirled around the index finger of one very amused (and shirtless) Gabriel Reyes. He was grinning. Jesse swallowed the lump in his chest. He had regressed ten years in one second.

“Damn, kid, you age like a fine wine,” Gabriel said. 

Jesse's head pulled back in response. Of all the things he had expected to come out of that mouth, _compliments_ were not on the list. Compliments had never been on the list. Six years ago, he probably would have jerked off to words of praise from his commanding officer. Shit, he probably would have done it right in front of either of them, had they asked. Jesse had always wanted both men with a barely contained passion; it had fueled his unwavering loyalty.

Jesse's lips fell open and a small gasp tumbled out when Gabriel leaned down and cupped his jaw. “Scruffy as shit,” Gabe said, “But it works on you.” Gabe laughed like thunder over the open sea; Jack laughed like dandelions floating through sunbeams. Jesse, _damnit all,_ blushed.

His head was spinning when he felt four hands touch him, slowly peeling off his clothing piece by piece. He didn't object. He barely knew what to say; all the questions he had were trying to escape his lips at once and nothing could get through the traffic jam. Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe he had nodded off and his brain had slipped into blissful wish fulfillment. But _God_ , those hands, they felt so real. They touched him and teased him and slipped in and out of him and Jesse couldn't do a damn thing but roll his head back and take it. 

_“What a good boy.”_

_“Stay with us, Jesse.”_

_“We missed you.”_

_“Let us take care of you.”_

Jesse’s head jerked up and down. His breathing was erratic, and his lips, pursed. To be stuck between these two... This was all he ever dreamed of. It was everything he had ever wanted.

Was it real? Did it matter, if it was or wasn’t? If this was a dream, he didn’t want to ever wake up.

Jesse moaned. “ _Please_.”

The pair shared him: one, then the other, then both at once. Jesse had never felt anything like it. When glasslike fangs dipped into his sweat-drenched skin, all he could do was moan. It hurt like a bitch, of course, but by then he was high on the whole experience—too high to care. 

Claws raked down his flesh, drawing new scars over old, carving him to fit their needs like a wooden doll. Every new mark felt better than the last. The more blood he lost, the better he felt, and when Jesse felt himself about to black out, that's when they finally kissed him. 

It tasted like iron and sugar, like gravel and fine dining. He took turns with each tongue, each set of lips set up to lavish him, feed him, make him stronger. It was so _good_. 

In the heat of passion, Jesse's blissed-out brain could only focus on one thought: he wanted more. He was _hungry_. 

Jesse bit down, and he had never felt better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted here: http://abakkus.tumblr.com/post/148910553216


End file.
